


The Absence of Empathy

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, Futurefic, M/M, Non-Consensual, episode-related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-05-13
Updated: 2003-05-13
Packaged: 2017-11-01 04:59:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/352196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark can define evil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Absence of Empathy

## The Absence of Empathy

by Lexalot

<http://www.livejournal.com/users/lexalot>

* * *

The Absence of Empathy  
By: Lexalot 

Summary: Clark can define evil. 

Rating: NC-17 

Disclaimer: Don't own, but--if they're for rent... 

Pairing: Clark/Lex 

Spoilers: Accelerate 

Warning: Explicit Non-Con! 

* * *

Tender kisses, combined with warm breath on his ear and neck, pried him away from the serenity of a dream that was lost to him in waking consciousness. 

"Clark." The softest plea for his attention, gentle and deliciously sweet. He refrained from responding just to hear his name called in the same way again, giving his highly desirable lover an opening to bait him. "Clark." Another kiss fell upon the pliable lobe of his ear and a finger brushed a few stray waves of dark hair back only to comb through the rest of his silken tresses affectionately. Then, a deep moan burrowed into his skin, and the sheets were being yanked away from him, much to his sheer delight. "Clark." 

"Mmm." He allowed his pleasure to show, exhibiting it like an animal in heat, glowing from its carnal radiance. "Does this mean you're home for the night?" 

"Yes, it does." Lex's voice was soothing and flowed with tremendous ease, not a dent of anguish in it. 

"Good." Clark meant it in more ways than one. Besides his libido rejoicing at the return of his beloved, he had expected Lex to come home fuming from his meeting with Lionel, as that was often the case on nights like these. Clark had come to accept it as part of their routine since he moved to the city to attend Metropolis University, but the fact that Lex had escaped unscathed tonight was a blessing, and Clark couldn't have been more satisfied to see Lex in such good spirits for a change. So much had been about worry and trouble with his father lately, but this time, it was just about them--Clark reveled in the notion. 

The satin barrier between them discarded, Clark turned his concentration to ridding Lex of his burdensome clothes, all the while staring deep into his true love's eyes, finding adoration that was unencumbered by grief or stress. Nothing could have been more perfect, or more uninhibited. An expensive oxford shirt and accompanying suit jacket were flung across the bedroom having been shed as one layer of hastily dispensed attire, both pieces peeled away simultaneously in the ardent rush of their foreplay. 

Clark kissed Lex and nipped at his upper lip, then his bottom one, splitting his focus evenly between the two halves of pink supple flesh. Something felt slightly askew for a fleeting second--something inexplicably intangible, impossible to pinpoint, much less articulate. Whatever it had been, it was subtle enough to let slide in his burgeoning passion. Without missing a beat, Clark's tongue jutted into Lex's mouth, only to dart back out again in an insane tease that made Lex stop to smile wickedly and wantonly at him. Lex could play this game pretty well himself, and gauging by his self-satisfied smirk, he had a strategy in mind. 

Before Clark resumed his assistance in Lex's undressing, aching to pick up where he left off at the exquisitely tailored black slacks, a sensation pricked his perception, and his head suddenly felt a little lighter, his mind a bit hazy, but not enough that his swooning over Lex's physical proximity couldn't account for the wave of adrenaline that inundated his brain. Still, he could not shake the thought that something was off, and that it was getting worse--a vague foreboding thundered in the distance, but Clark didn't see any clouds; he only heard the approaching echo in his soul's shadow. 

Lex's mouth was on his again soon enough, and Clark surrendered to the coercion from the distracting disturbance. 

Suddenly, that undeniable something was back, this time striking a violent chord of alarm in him. Then, a cold sharpness connected with his muscular abdomen, and the distinct crippling effect of familiar illness came as the tiny spot of pain traveled up his ribs to his chest and into sight. Clark gasped at the sight of the green gem that glowed in an oval cut, as Lex pushed it enticingly up the curves of his firm sinews. Clark's expression was riddled with puzzlement and abrupt shock while Lex seemed still mired in ecstasy, lost in the miracle of Clark's perfect body, oblivious to any harm he was doing--but he shouldn't have been. 

"Lex, what are you doing?" Traces of panicked urgency and confusion unhinged Clark's euphoric tranquility along with the weakness that ate at his cellular composition, and churned the very blood in his veins itself. He was at a loss for Lex's intention, especially since there had not been secrets between he and Lex for quite some time--they were in love, and Lex would never do anything to hurt him; these were two things Clark knew for certain in this world. 

Withdrawing his lips from the hollow of Clark's throat, Lex rubbed the refined dime-sized Kryptonite chip over an inch or so of flesh in a suggestive manner that would have been equally seductive to Clark if the stimulus were mutually beneficial. Clark's head swam, his vision blurred, and his nerves started to go numb, but Lex's voice was sedate in heady nonchalance. "Wear this for me tonight." 

"What?" He was convincing himself his hypersensitive auditory abilities had misheard Lex. Then, delusion evaporated when Clark struggled against his weakening energy to glance down, and he noticed a sterling silver chain attacked to the radioactive rock. That was when he knew Lex was completely serious, having spied the necklace attachment that made the damned thing look like a garish accessory. "Why?" 

In response, Lex whispered against the side of Clark's rosy cheekbone as it was beginning to pale, and his tone was persuasively intoxicating with all his sensual charm, as were his words. "I want you to feel me. I want you to know what it's like when you're inside me. I want you to feel what I feel when you fuck me." The way Lex spoke his reasons was dubious, seeming almost like it was meant as a punishment for all the havoc Clark had accidentally wrought on Lex's fragile form, and yet, Lex's timbre was as clear as his expressed intention--he really deemed the idea incredibly erotic. 

When Clark made no vocal objection, Lex knelt between Clark's spread thighs, sitting up to open the latch on the chain and then he leaned over Clark's nervous figure to fix it around his neck, but before he could refasten the necklace behind Clark's head, his hesitant partner interrupted. "Lex, I'm not totally comfortable with this..." There was more he was going to say, but when Lex locked eyes with his, much to Clark's surprise, there was quickening hostile resentment glaring back at him. The unexpected bitterness kept Clark from elaborating on his uneasiness, and abruptly, his imposed vulnerability made him cringe, feeling strangely threatened by Lex's callous turn of attitude towards him. 

"Am I to understand that it is perfectly acceptable for me to feel pain when you do this to me, but it's not all right for you to endure it even once? Is that what you're trying to tell me, Clark?" Lex emphasized his distaste for that imbalanced double standard, resonating with meticulous antagonism. 

A fear was almost instilled in him by Lex's cold remarks. He wondered where that animosity stemmed from, because it never seemed to have had roots before, but so swiftly it had become ripe and rich, loaded with raw acidic abandon. Clark could not deny Lex's logic, and the rusty edge to that surfacing cynicism cut him, while his heart beat hard against the tiny amount of radiation the accursed jewel emitted and the scorn marring Lex's normally generous demeanor in bed. 

He was loath to concede, but he had forced his mind to yield to Lex's will, and he reluctantly submit in full. "Okay, Lex." 

Smiling to excess, infinitely pleased with Clark's simple forfeit, Lex closed the clasp with a grand air of triumph and self-satisfaction. "That's my good boy." 

Something underlying the statement seemed absently malicious, but Clark was occupied with increasing duress setting into his system just from wearing the necklace, and his mind raced with thoughts--questions as to why Lex had wanted to engage in such a bizarre activity and indulge a dangerous scenario, wondering if it was inspired by the day far back in the beginning of their friendship when Lex had found Clark strung up as a scarecrow wearing Lana's meteor rock wrapped about his throat. Whatever the inspiration, Clark was already hoping for this awkward situation to end. 

After finally dispensing with his suit pants, Lex settled into his original position, lying on top of Clark and lavishing attention on the warm golden skin that was cooling a ghostly white. Clark could not bring himself to enjoy any of the kisses or caresses, as he only yearned for the act to be over and done--he needed it to pass, because the exposure to his neon green poison was literally sickening and practically paralyzing him. In the midst of his deepening agony, Lex started intensely working at his sensitive nipple, and when teeth clamped down on it without warning, Clark experienced the piercing shock of the pressure, and almost to spite him, the overwhelming sting carried on an adrenaline line to his half-hard cock, engorging the organ more than Clark imagined would be possible here. 

Faster than Clark could follow what was happening, Lex poised his throbbing member at Clark's opening, ready to penetrate the tight crevice, which due to Clark's invincibility had never remotely loosened in all the time he and Lex had been lovers. Clark's tissue tensed as Lex thrust forward and drove himself inside with a brutal plunge that did not stop until Lex was entirely sheathed by Clark's stretched heat. Lex moaned on a delicious sigh, savoring the incredible friction, while Clark cried out in anguish, desperately trying to squirm back from the assault on his body, but in his current condition, Lex easily held Clark close to him. 

Lex began pounding without restraint or regard for the way the violent movement racked Clark's impaired state. Any and all immunity he had to material suffering and bodily harm had been deprived him, rendering him bare to the damage the unwitting attack was doing to him. "Lex, please." At first, the plea was meant only for Lex to tame his harsh treatment of the now delicate muscle he offended inside and manipulated outside. However, the plea rapidly escalated into a helpless request for him to cease and desist, because in his carnal bliss, Lex interpreted the words as a sexual urgency, seemingly provoking him to hasten and increase his efforts with thrilling encouragement. "Lex, no. Please, stop!" Nothing, just a detached admiring stare cast his way. Time went by and Lex showed no signs of curtailing his passion--in fact, he was getting more vicious. Clark felt like he was being ripped apart by Lex's overly aggressive rhythm, and his threshold of pain was reaching a fray, preparing to break, like he might faint. "Lex, this hurts so badly!" 

"Shhh. It's all right, Clark. I'm almost there. You're fine." His tone was eerily surreal in its placid tranquility. 

More time passed--too much. Every part of Clark that wasn't nearly numb was stricken with inescapable agony, granting him no strength to fight Lex's frightening heartless domination--he could do nothing but lie there and ride out the ugly turn of events. The burn Clark felt inside him stung worse in countless folds of torn muscle tissue that was coated and contemptibly lubricated with blood. Clark's blood--Clark was bleeding. And Lex was the knife that bled him. 

As Lex slowed and punctuated each impaling stab with purposeful measure, Lex came, his seed spilling to mix with the crimson fluid that lubricated Lex's sated cock. When Lex was finally finished, Clark could not have been more disgusted as he found Lex collapsing on top of him, exhausted from his lengthy exertion. Lex's erection was still fading, the half-swollen member remaining embedded inside him. Clark had gone limp long before this repulsive afterglow. 

When Lex withdrew from Clark's proximity and reclined on his side of the bed, Clark laid silent, immersed in the shame of desecration and abuse. He could hardly fathom the reality of what had occurred. Clark had been raped... and by Lex... 

Clark was treading consciousness as it sunk beneath the ruptured frailty, but he managed to watch as Lex happily removed the chain and liberated him from the Kryptonite's inherent bondage. Lex tossed it into a lead box and haphazardly threw the vile thing in a drawer. He couldn't quite explain it, but Clark suddenly felt like that box and the alien novelty it concealed. But in essence, he felt used--used and discarded, and very much like a unique toy. 

While his body started recovering, feeling some instant relief in part as that shackle had been lifted, Clark tried to rebound emotionally and mentally, but all he found in his heart and mind were the horrors of what had transpired. 

His content lover eyed him appreciatively with mounds of affection and little sympathy. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" 

Clark was incredulous and he shot Lex a gaping look of disbelief. 

Lex seemed thrown by Clark's abrasive countenancee. "What? What's wrong with you?" 

He studied Lex's expression and smirk in suspicious appall. "Me? The question is what's wrong with you!" 

All of a sudden, the truth, reality, crashed down on Clark, caving in on him like a house built on sand--there was no scar dividing Lex's upper lip... 

Lex had always had that scar since Clark had met him; it was one of the distinguishing features of his appearance--that had been what was missing! 

The scar was something Lex earned in his dubious life, full of luxury and hardship. It had been the mark of a beating he had taken at the onset of his adulthood. The flaw in his visage had reminded Lex of his susceptibility to hatred and the redeeming path to fighting it, and thus it had also served as a testament to his ability to overcome that which left such a negative imprint on him. To Clark, it had always been a symbol of Lex's beautiful humanity--and it wasn't there anymore. It represented things this person, whomever it was, had never known. 

This thing, this creature, this being, had none of Lex's compassion, and possessed a self-serving air about its every gesture. 

He found the strength to scramble clumsily out of the bed and away from this masquerading stranger, then he stood breathlessly at the far corner of the room by the door to the hall, anticipating the oncoming of a fight-or-flight response, and as a result of his prolonged exposure to the Kryptonite, he did not have it in him to fight this time. "Who are you?" Clark demanded in bewilderment. 

He rose from the mattress and rounded the edge of it to carefully approach. "What the hell are you talking about, Clark? It's me, Lex!" 

"No--no, it isn't! You're not Lex..." This took on a dreadful familiarity at that moment. 

Clark's mind immediately flashed back to Emily--the little girl Lex's father had successfully cloned as part of his sinister Level Three experiments. Clark was traumatized and devastated at the revelation that this Lex was an imposter, and he was wrestling to reject the idea. Yet all indications seemed to point to that outrageous but sensible answer; this Lex didn't know the difference between right and wrong, and he was clearly an heir of Daddy Lionel's making, the product of Lucifer's lab, complete with all Lex's memories as well as the flawless and sure consciousness--all just like Emily. The man who stood before him calling himself Lex, genuinely believing himself to be Lex, was just a monstrous facsimile, a heartless father's solution to the problem of an imperfect and rebellious son. Clark's reason staggered at the thought that Lionel had to have been waiting for this, preparing for it, scheming, just so his legacy would be preserved, or as a abominable means to some other inconceivable end. 

How could Lionel have dismissed his own son? What had he done with the real Lex?... Clark felt ill again, but this had nothing to do with Kryptonite. 

This clone did not care about anything save for itself, and apparently, neither had its creator. To engineer evil, one only needed to be evil. 

It was that moment that Clark could define evil; he discovered it the same way he knew this Lex was a fraud--it was the absence of empathy. 

Too much, too fast, too painfully real--Clark was going to flee this place, flee this Lex, and take up a quest. As Clark started gathering up his clothes that lay nearby him and hastily dress, he considered his goals clear; find his beloved Lex, and stop Lionel and his plan to install this phony in Lex's stead, not to mention deceptively seamless absence. Once he had his shirt and jeans pulled on, he headed out the door, zippering and buttoning along the way. He had no clue how he was going to accomplish any of this, but he was resolute that he would do it no matter how long it took. 

The counterfeit Lex pursued him through the opulent halls of the penthouse. "You're going somewhere?" In his agitation, he sounded as if he believed his opinion should matter to Clark, and it would have were it the real Lex's words that called out to him--it was heartbreakingly clear that this clone did not know he wasn't actually Lex, and would probably never realize, or understand, or believe, the truth. "No, you can't leave!" he insisted, fierce tone with all the command of Lionel's absurd requirement of conformity and obedience to his every whim and the power he wielded so reckless and insanely. "Clark!" 

Clark reached the penthouse entrance, and swung it open, turning as he stepped through the threshold, and he lamentably paused at the sight of this Lex. 

"I promise you, Clark, if you walk out that door, you'll regret it for the rest of your life! I'll make certain of it!" 

Clark passed all the way out to the other side, and then slammed it behind him. 


End file.
